Star Trek: Ultimate: Mystery of Forway
by The Jolly Gnu
Summary: A new series! New crew, new ship, new enemies! Captain Yale of the USS Ultimate wants to unravel the mystery of the Forway Nebula, but he gets more than he bargained for...PLEASE REVIEW THIS STORY!
1. Discovery!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Star Trek. If I did, do you really think I would be submitting stories to Fanfiction instead of to a TV company?

A new series, entirely new crew and class of ship.

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2375 AD

The Galaxy- class ship zoomed through space, straight through the invisible border separating the Alpha and Beta quadrants, its sensors constantly searching the surrounding space for information.

On the bridge of the _USS Sloane_, Captain Norden gripped the arms of his command chair. His instincts were telling him to be on his guard, and his instincts were never wrong. Suddenly, his ops officer, some young slip of an ensign, just out the academy, turned to face the centre seat.

"Captain." The ensign called. "Sensors show unidentified craft approaching."

"On screen, Ensign Yale." The Captain nervously shifted in his seat, staring out at the unexplored area of the Beta quadrant in front of them. A strange, curved, gleaming semi-circle of a ship swung round to meet them. "Hail them." Norden barked.

"No response, sir." replied Yale. "Wait- I'm getting vague- AARGH!!" suddenly, everyone on the bridge was encased in flowing green energy, that sent strange, pulsing flashes of white noise to their brains.

"MR-VALERIE-REPORT!" Norden hissed to his science officer.

"IT-IS-POSSIBLE-THAT-THESE-ARE-SOME-KIND-OF-SIGNALS!" The science officer shot back.

Suddenly, there was a small BANG, and Norden turned to see that Valerie's console had just exploded. Suddenly, as quickly as it had started, the energy pulses stopped. Norden wheeled around to face the science officer. "Well?"

"My console appears to have been shorted out deliberately, destroying all data collected on the pulses."

"Damn." the Captain muttered. Suddenly, Yale let out a cry of alarm.

"Captain! Object approaching at high velocities!"

"A torpedo?" Norden said, alarmed.

"Like, but unlike," said the confused ensign.

"Tractor beam." ordered Norden, leaning forward in his chair. The small dot on the screen was eclipsed by a Tractor beam. "Pull it into the cargo bay." Norden continued, bouncing impatiently in his chair.

"Sir, the object resists all scans- is it wise to-"

"You do your job Mr Valerie, and I'll do mine."

"Aye sir."

A few minutes later, Yale reported that the mysterious object was inside. With a gasp, he then reported that the strange craft was returning to the nearby Forway nebula.

"Follow it." Ordered Norden. The _Sloane_ came about and headed for the Nebula. Seconds later, the craft pitched wildly to one side, throwing the bridge crew left, right and centre.

"Somehow I doubt we are meant to follow." Valerie said calmly.

"Meant to? I'm not following instructions from these people."

"Nevertheless, sir, our shields have been completely drained."

"Ah. Very well, set a course for sector 004, maximum warp. Mr Yale, come with me. We're going to take a look at that object."

In the Cargo Bay, the tube sat, doing nothing. A top engineering squad was attempting to open it. Norden and Yale marched into the bay. Norden spoke to his Chief engineer. "Commander Pyron?"

"Nothing sir. Won't open for nobody, it seems. We can't tell what's inside, or even if there is summat inside." Turning back to a short, stocky ensign, he continued giving out orders. "Ensign Devon, try the laser blowtorch."

"Aye, sir." The ensign moved forward, then automatically took a step back, as an unearthly glowing came from the inside of the tube. The tube then split in half, the top half levitating to some distance away before dropping down onto the floor with a resounding CLANG. Everyone jumped. Norden was first to recover, striding forwards and peering down into the tube. His gasp of pure horror made the other all gather round too. Wordlessly, silently, every starfleeter in the room stared down at the gurgling, red-skinned baby...

20 years later

The infinite stretches of space held no boundaries for the new transwarp engines, purloined from Borg technology, now looking very much at home on the four curved nacelles of the greatest ship the federation had ever built: The _USS ULTIMATE, NCC- 2647._

On board the bridge of this magnificent ship, Captain Yale twirled his goatee round his finger, keying in an instruction to his console to make a log entry.

Captain Log: One year into the voyages of this great ship, we will soon rendezvous with the _USS Intrepid_, for our first crew changeover. While I am sorry to see my current Helm Officer and Head of Security go, I must confess to a certain excited anticipation on meeting with my new Tactical and Security chief, as I was part of the original crew of the _Sloane_, who discovered Mr Volkar as a baby, 20 long years ago...

Yale was brought back to the present by the voice of his first officer and science officer, Jane Regent, speaking in her precise, clear tones. "Captain, a shuttlecraft is approaching from the Intrepid, containing our new crewmembers."

"Excellent." Said Yale breezily. "Have Dr T'pleth and Mr Devon meet me in shuttlebay one. You have the bridge, Number One." As Yale left the bridge, Regent smiled at him, but as he entered the turbo lift, her expression changed to one of venomous hatred...

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Well, that was the first chapter of this new series! Please Read and Review! 


	2. Sabotage!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Star Trek, but all characters and ships are my own inventions. Anyway, here is part two...

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The airlock door of the shuttlecraft slowly slid open. A tall man, with deep red skin, wearing a Starfleet uniform of black with grey/purple shoulder pads with yellow operations undershirt, climbed out. He came to attention smartly when he saw three Officers approaching him. 

"Lieutenant Volkar, I assume?" smiled the central figure, wearing captain's pips.

"Sir." Volkar acknowledged. He peered at Captain Yale. "You'll forgive me sir, but have we met before?"

Yale smiled. "Once. You were- er-" He held his hand about 40 cm apart "so high."

A purple flush spread across Volkar's cheeks. Yale guessed this must be his equivalent of blushing. One of Yale's fellow officers, a Vulcan in Science division blue stepped forward. "I understand that even as minors, your species has the ability to remember any individual it meets."

Volkar frowned. "You may surmise that, but as I am the only Hovan the federation has ever seen, you cannot know that for sure." He looked sad.

The third officer, a short man who had been regarding the proceedings with a detached air, beamed around at them all. "Come on, people! This is meant to be a happy time; new crewmates, new stories to tell around the staff table of a winter evening!"

Volkar stared at him, bemused. Captain Yale made the introductions. "Lt. Devon, my chief engineer. He was on the _Sloane_, as well. He sometimes gets a bit... carried away." Devon and Volkar shook hands. Suddenly, a voice from behind them called:

"Hello?"

They all turned; Volkar and Devon chorused "Hello!" and Yale strode forward to shake the hand of the young female ensign who had just emerged from the shuttle.

"Ensign Gamelle, your new helmsman." She introduced herself. Yale shook her hand, introducing his staff.

"Dr T'pleth, our CMO, and Lt. Devon, Chief Engineer."

Gamelle flicked back her long brown hair, revealing slightly pointed ears. Devon raised an eyebrow, whereas Dr T'pleth frowned, saying; "You are a hybrid?" Yale raised his eyes as Devon exclaimed:

"You Vulcans just don't know the meaning of the word subtlety, do you?! I mean, come on! Respect other people's privacy!"

T'pleth stared down at the engineer. "To the contrary, I know perfectly well the meanings of most words in your race's vocabulary. Subtlety means-"

"Look, just leave it, Doctor." Yale intervened. "Ensign Gamelle, if you would accompany to the bridge?"

"I'd be delighted to, Captain." the young ensign smiled. "Oh, and by the way, yes, I'm half Romulan. On my mother's side. See you later, Volkar," she called back over her shoulder. Volkar blushed again.

Devon chewed his lip. "Word of advice, Lieutenant," he said. "Don't fraternise in the first week. Never ends well."

Volkar glared at him. "So, what do I do now, Mr Devon?"

"What? Right now? You come with me, to Engineering. I really must show you the security measures your predecessor installed on our transwarp drive."

They walked off, now chatting amicably, leaving T'pleth standing alone.

"I will now return to sickbay." she announced to a knot of technicians in the corner, who giggled at her.

"It's not called the _Ultimate_ for nothing, you know." Yale commented as he and Gamelle strode around the bridge, Regent rising from the command chair to meet them. "This ship is capable of warp 12, not to mention full transwarp drives, and the most powerful shields in Starfleet history. She's the absolute Ultimate in scientific exploration, and capable of functioning with any crew complement between ten and seven hundred." Gamelle whistled softly. "And this is your station." Yale smiled as Gamelle took over from the relief officer, and at a single touch, the computer identified her, and the console powered up under her fingertips.

Down in engineering, assistant chief engineer Ensign Hannah Mitchells was fiddling around with a console in the cautious hope it wouldn't blow up in her face. Just then, to her immense relief, Mike Devon appeared on the scene.

"What's happening, Mitch?" he called as he strode across the room, accompanied by Volkar.

Moving subtly to hide the screen reporting internal damage to the transwarp drive, Mitchells smiled nervously at them. "Oh, nothing much sir, ha ha, you must be Lieutenant Volkar..." A nearby console imploded, shooting out sparks and sending a technician flying. Mitchells wilted under Devon's stern stare. "Ha ha..."

Devon strode over to the Warp Core controls, instantly assessing the danger and closing down the Transwarp coils immediately. He turned angrily to Volkar and a cowering Mitchells. "This is beyond a joke!" He burst out angrily. "Pack a ship full of totally incompatible technology, then send it shooting round the Galaxy? The whole things a complete sham- there is no such thing as _'Ultimate'_ in science! There'll always be something better out there! It's like filling a paper aeroplane with twenty-ton bombs, then chucking it at the next solar system!"

Volkar watched this tirade, thinking the irate engineer had a point. He had read the specifications for this ship before joining the crew, and he had to admit that it was a bit over the top. Suddenly, he noticed something very interesting. Brushing past ensign Mitchells, who had her hands over her ears, he strode round to the back of the core. Devon hurried up to him. "This warp coil." Muttered Volkar. "It's decaying a lot faster than the others."

"Thus, this is the cause of the problem." Retorted Devon. "But what can cause that-?"

He broke off abruptly as Volkar, using his abnormally keen eyes, noticed a random scattering of incredibly tiny holes in the coil. "A plasma leak," gasped Devon. "But the computer hasn't registered-"

Volkar turned to him sombrely. "A plasma leak one year out of spacedock? Computers not registering system failure? I'd say there's a little bit of sabotage going on here."

Mitchells gingerly removed her fingers from her ears, only to whimper at Devon's outraged bellow of "SABOTAGE?!?!?!?!?" Devon strode off towards the turbo-lift, Volkar marching in his wake. "The Captain must be told!"

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Please review! Please, please, please? 


	3. Arguments!

At long last, the third chapter of a story that nobody seems to be bothering to read. And if you lot out there are reading it, you're not reviewing. So, please, please, please please pleasepleaseplease REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!

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Captain Yale collapsed into his centre seat, swivelling around to face lieutenant commander Regent, who was bent over her science console, analysing the Ultimate's course headings. "Regent, any new orders from Starfleet?"

"None that I'm aware of, sir."

"What do you mean aware of? You had the bridge; you get orders, if there are any. Simple as that, number one."

Regent wheeled around, waving her hands violently. "Look, if there had been any orders, I would have told you, wouldn't I?"

Everyone on the bridge turned to see the emerging confrontation between Yale and Regent. The Captain and his first officer, the two who were meant to hold the entire ship together. Thankfully, an all out fight was avoided by two men barging through the doorway. "Captain!" Yelled the shorter of the two. "Can I speak to you? As in, in private?"

"Yes, Mr Devon?" replied the captain, knowing his chief engineer was not prone to making the proverbial fuss over nothing. He rose from his chair.

In the Captain's ready room, Yale, Devon and Volkar sat around the desk. "You're certain it's sabotage?" The Captain said hesitantly.

"With respect, Captain," answered Devon. "In the engines of the Ultimate, nothing can go wrong by itself."

"Any chance at all that it's just the computer playing up?" Recently, the computers had been updated to account for much more computerised executive work, neutralising the need for an independent executive officer. Because of this, the first officer would now be a department head, i.e. Lt. Cmdr. Regent.

"Perhaps that could be the case for isolinear chips, sir, but the neural gel packs and brain print scanners, no way." replied Devon.

"Mr. Volkar, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

"Captain, this was obviously done by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. We are dealing with a professional here. We must be on our guard."

"Of course we've got to be on our guard, Lieutenant!" Roared Yale "This ship could be in serious trouble! As Starfleet officers, we must be on our guard whatever! In the meantime, what do you plan to do?"

Devon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Mr. Volkar wishes to carry out a high level investigation. While he's doing that, I'm going to shut down all power to the engines. All of them- power loss to the transwarp could affect normal warp."

Yale nodded. "Make it so."

Ensign Gamelle strolled into the Mess Hall, got a coffee from the replicators, and collapsed into a chair. Nearby, she saw Commander Regent, and getting up, she decided to join her. "Commander?" She inquired gently. Regent looked up with a start and nodded to the young helm officer.

"Ensign?"

"I couldn't help but notice that relations between you and the Captain have been a little... frayed... and I was wondering if you ever want a friendly ear to your problems, I-"

Regent's voice was like a block of ice. "If I wanted counselling, I would talk to a councillor, and not some jumped up little hybrid like YOU!" She stood up and marched away.

"You're new, aren't you?" Said a voice from behind her. "Someone should have warned you about the Dragon Queen."

Gamelle sat down opposite the other ensign. "Marianne Gamelle."

"Hannah Mitchells."

"Aha! You're the assistant chief engineer, aren't you? So what was all that about on the bridge this morning?" The two young women started gossiping...

Devon shifted uncomfortably in the command chair. He hated being bridge officer. Too much responsibility. He turned to T'pleth, who was sitting at the science console.

"Doctor? Anything extremely interesting on the scanners?"

The Dr. looked puzzled. "In the extremes, no, Lieutenant. However, in one lightyear is the Forway nebula, an area consisting of-"

"Yes, yes." Devon muttered testily. He adjusted his brain to compensate for Vulcans. "Very well, Dr. please continue with the sensor sweep." He watched the officers around him all tapping at their consoles. It had been a long night, but something was nagging at him. Suddenly, he swung around, staring wildly at T'pleth. "THE FORWAY NEBULA?!?!?!?"

"Anything the matter, sir?" enquired Ensign Batesly.

"The Forway Nebula." breathed Devon. "I'd forgotten we were passing so close to it. It's a place I never want to return to."

Captain Yale was asleep. This was not an unusual thing for a human to do at night-time (relative night-time, of course, 'night' didn't exist on a starship). His communicator chirped. Groaning, he reached over to his crumpled uniform lying on the floor. "Hmmf?" He enquired.

"Sorry, captain. Have I disturbed you?"

"Oh, no, Devon. Of course not. You see, I'm still asleep. You're just a dream."

"Captain, I think you should come to the bridge."

"Really, lieutenant? Funnily enough, I disagree." Yale frowned. "What is it?"

"Two words, captain. One is 'Forway'"

Yale actually felt his blood chill. "I have a sinking feeling that the other one is going to be 'nebula.' Please tell me I'm wrong."

"Afraid not, Captain." A new voice- Volkar's.

"Mr Volkar, are you sure you should be present, given the -ah- personal connection between you and the nebula?"

"Sir, I want answers. I'm not going to get them by hiding."

Yale relented. "Very well, Mr Volkar. But, Devon?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How the hell did we get this close to the nebula? Surely we couldn't have drifted that far with loss of power to the engines!"

"Ah."

"That ah was very worrying, Devon. I don't like that ah."

"We aren't in the same place we found Volkar in."

"WHAT?!?"

"The nebula, sir. It's-" Devon's voice caught. "It's moved!"

* * *

Gosh darn it. The suspense. Alright, I know it's boring so far, but I'm trying to get the characters up and running. 


	4. Mutiny!

Chapter the fourth awaits...

But first, a **Disclaimer:** I am not the creator of Star Trek. I am not the guy with the rights to Star Trek. I AM the guy who would REALLY appreciate you reviewing this, please. Constructive criticism appreciated.

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Yale glared round at the senior officers assembled around the briefing table. "Anyone care to tell me how the HELL a stellar object can move."

Volkar shook his head sombrely. "I can't explain any of it."

Yale frowned at him. "Seeing as you were found in the nebula, should you be involved in this investigation?"

Volkar folded his arms. "I'm your chief of security. You need me."

Regent spoke up. "How long before our engines are back online and we can gain full power? I've checked and rechecked: It's official. The nebula is emitting a high level tractor array of epsilon waves, drawing us in to it."

Devon scratched his chin. "Warp IS available, transwarp will be online, but plasma surges will disrupt other sensors."

"We don't need transwarp." Yale interrupted. "Warp is all we need to take us to the Forway Nebula."

Gamelle gasped, Devon gulped, the cup in Volkar's hand shattered and T'pleth raised an eyebrow in an explosion of Vulcan emotion. Regent, however, leaped to her feet.

"Precisely what I would have expected from a Captain who's vision of his duty blurs when it comes to personal glory!" she spat.

"Excuse me?" Yale frowned.

"I'm sorry, Captain. But you're endangering this ship and crew with your outlandish adventures." She drew a tiny phaser from her waistband. Volkar leant in for a closer look.

"An Andorian cricket pistol." He remarked. "I thought these were outlawed." He looked up, grinning. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Commander, am I to assume this is an act of mutiny?" Yale inquired politely.

"It is." Confirmed Regent.

"Very well." Yale smiled disarmingly. Then he brought his boot up, connecting with Regent's hand. Her weapon flew through the air. Volkar caught it deftly. Yale swung his hand out, catching Regent by her collar. His foot jerked out, knocking her legs from underneath her. She fell, winding herself. Yale looked up in triumph, but his smile faded as he realised Volkar was holding him at gunpoint.

"It would seem I've underestimated you both." He breathed. "But why, Volkar? You of all people should be interested in the nebula."

Volkar's face was grim. "Sir, you are endangering this ship and crew. It's my duty to protect them."

Regent tottered onto her bow-legs. She smiled thinly, a smile that didn't stand a chance of reaching her eyes, which were glaring at Yale. "Yes, I had a little word with Mr. Volkar before this meeting. He's none too happy with the way you're running this ship, either."

She held out her hand. Volkar passed her the gun.

"You'll face a court martial when we get home, you know." Yale said calmly.

Regent cackled. "A court martial? My dear ex- captain!" she crowed. "I don't think you realise just how phenomenally out of your depth you are."

"Not out of my depth enough to know that you won't dare shoot me."

Regent shot him.

Devon darted forward, bringing up the Klingon knife he had been concealing. Volkar grabbed hold of his wrist, twisting it so the the knife dropped to the floor with a clatter. Regent strode forward, missing the wink that passed between the two men.

"A Klingon Shel'leth." She mused. "You obviously have many hidden talents, Mr. Devon."

"Aye, and they'll stay hidden." Snarled Devon. Volkar gripped him tighter, but Regent held up her hand.

"How long have you known Harry Yale, Mr. Devon?" She asked sweetly.

"22 years." Devon spat at her.

"Then I would have expected nothing else. Release him, lieutenant, and confine him to the brig. Any other objections, ladies?" Gamelle and T'pleth stared in horror at her, but nodded all the same.

* * *

Yale sat up. He appeared to be in a forest. It was a very nice forest, he noticed. Particularly the dancing emerald flowers. He peered into the distance. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind him. He swung around, ready for the worst.

"Greetings." said the translucent purple seven- foot high insect.

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"What? Oh, the insect thing." The insect shimmered, twisted and shrank into a humanoid, wearing a hooded cloak.

"Er..."

"You were expecting someone else?"

"NO! Who are you, and were am I?"

"This is your subconscious. Nice, isn't it? And I... I am your worst nightmare..."

* * *

Ensign Gamelle took her position at the helm. "Course heading, sir?" she asked Acting Captain Regent.

Regent lay back in her command chair. "Take us to exactly fifteen light seconds from the nebula."

Gamelle turned to face her. "Why that exact distance, ma'am?"

"For an ensign you ask far too many questions, Miss. I order, you obey. This is the way things work." Regent replied sweetly.

Gamelle bent over her console and moved the Ultimate into position. Regent lay back and giggled quietly to herself. "And so begins the end..." she whispered.

* * *

"My worst nightmare? You really haven't got the hang of the melodrama thing, have you?" Yale leaned back against the tree and whistled quietly. "Hey, I can whistle!" He realised.

"Hey? Oh yeah. That's the subconscious thing. You can do whatever you like here."

Yale concentrated. "Except get rid of me." The figure said snidely. "I'm not part of your subconscious."

"Then what are you?!?" Yale snapped.

"Told you. I'm your worst-"

"-Nightmare, yes, I got that bit. Which particular nightmare are we talking about here?"

The figure chuckled. "I bring tidings of the end of the federation as you know it."

"Oh, that!" Yale smiled. "That's not my worst nightmare. In my worst nightmare I'm wearing a nightdress, being chased by commander Regent, who attempts to hit me over the head with a saveloy-" Yale stopped mid- sentence. "Hang on, backtrack a bit. Did you say the end of the Federation?"

"Yes. It's total destruction and remodelling into a wasteland."

"Gosh. Tell me more..." The figure paused, and lifted its' head. Yale was about to see inside the cloak for the first time...

* * *

Then he woke up, and it was all a dream.

But of course, that was the point...

* * *

Getting interesting now, isn't it? Yays. 


	5. Invasion!

Chapter Five... costructive criticism, please! Or you could simply praise me and worship the ground I walk on...

* * *

Phase One 

Captain Harry Yale was in the brig. He hoped he wouldn't be in there too long. Unfortunately, it wasn't up to him, seeing as his ship had just been taken over by a power mad science officer. He looked up as Lieutenant Volkar entered.

"Ensign Barbarossa! Has the prisoner moved at all?" He asked the duty officer.

"No sir! Just sat there staring after he woke up in a cold sweat three hours ago!"

"Really? Very interesting... Alright, Ensign, go and get some rest." He waited until the Ensign had left the security office. Then he hurried over to Yale, who had come to the front of his cell.

"What's going on, Volkar?"

"About thirty minutes ago Commander Regent took the science station in order to send energy pulses into the nebula- for scanning purposes, she maintains." 

"Right. I want you on the bridge, Mr. Volkar. I don't like any of this."

"Yes sir." Volkar stood. Yale checked to see that nobody was listening.

"Mr.Volkar, prepare phase two."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

Phase Two 

Dr T'pleth sat in Sickbay, waiting for the results of the scientific scan to reach her medical console. Suddenly she became aware of two shadows casting a cool darkness over her. "Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked. One of the security officers raised a phaser. Dr T'pleth raised an eyebrow.

"We know that you've been hacking into the Captain's science scans. And you shouldn't have been doing that, should you, Dr?"

His brutal- faced Tellarite crony smirked. "I never trusted Vulcans. We've got orders from Captain Regent to take you to the brig, dead or alive."

Dr T'pleth examined her medical console as it chimed to report a successful download. "Fascinating."

"That's all you've got to say?" sneered the human officer.

The Tellarite drew an evil looking knife. "Maybe she'll never speak again. What d'you reckon, Vulcan? Will you still be able to operate with no vocal chords?"

The human giggled. "Let's seeAAAARGH!!!!" He collapsed, with an electronic syringe in his shoulder. The Tellarite spun around, whirling his knife in the direction of Ensign Mitchells, who had another syringe in her hand. He wielded his knife, about to stab her, when he sighed and collapsed, submitting to a Vulcan nerve-pinch.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall." sighed Mitchells in relief. T'pleth arched an eyebrow.

"Interesting. I shall have to conduct an experiment into the basis of this hypothesis."

Mitchells groaned. "It's a saying, Doc. Just a saying. I thought these two were in the brig for attempted murder?"

T'pleth bent down and withdrew the syringe from the unconscious man. "Apparently our acting leader is engaging in less than lawful pursuits." she examined the syringe. "Fascinating. You have administered a lasting contraceptive to this man. He will never be pregnant again."

"I've done the calculations for an Eta wave, Dr."

"Excellent. Is phase three in place?" T'pleth asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Not A Phase 

Regent swivelled her chair to and fro in anticipation. The plan was nearing completion. Gamelle turned around to face her.

"Captain! I'm getting a reply from- from inside the nebula!"

Regent smiled thinly. "That's no nebula." On the screen, the nebula twisted, changed colour, melted into something else, something smaller, but infinitely more powerful. The relief science officer stared in amazement as his console went out of control, his screen filling with alien data. The console beeped wildly as the ship's computer struggled to translate. Regent smirked as she slipped from her command chair and hurled the ensign from the Science Post.

"Allow me to help." she chuckled. She entered in a succession of codes, and the data translated itself. Volkar stared in horror at the object on the viewscreen.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"A portal." Regent breathed. "A portal to another dimension."

"And the constant stream of data from us to the other side, and from the other side to us, is keeping it open!" Gamelle deduced with a gasp.

"There's something coming through!" Yelled Volkar. A form began to materialise, halfway in and halfway out of the rip in time/space...

* * *

Phase Three 

Lieutenant Devon's fingers were a blur as he hacked into the Engineering computer. The list of facts and figure constantly scrolling up the screen of the console in his quarters reflected in his bright eyes. Finally he entered his own personal codes, and grinned. Regent had obviously not had the opportunity to delete his influence from the power grid. His console displayed the statistics of engineering. Then he really began to break the rules...

T'pleth and Mitchells stared proudly at the misshapen lump of equipment they had cobbled together out of medical scanners. "Operate." T'pleth ordered. With uncharacteristic glee, Mitchells pressed some of the handmade levers...

* * *

On the bridge, Regent spread her arms, closing her eyes in rapture as she breathed in the sweet scent of victory. Gamelle stood, backing away from the viewscreen until she fell over backwards onto the floor. Volkar stared in horror as The Ship emerged through what had once been the Forway nebula. The Ship was a gleaming orange, three spheres arranged in a perfect triangle, joined by pylons, which went up and forward, to form a sort of bent pyramid, with a flattened cuboid on top. (As much as anything is 'on top' in space.) Suddenly, there was a crackling explosion, a plume of smoke rose from the Science console, and the portal snapped straight back into its nebuliac disguise. With an inhuman snarl, Regent lunged for her console. She smashed in her codes, but nothing happened on screen. "Computer!" She snapped. "Lock off all orders given by any senior crewmember apart from me!" 

"Unable to comply." The machine retorted.

"WHAT?!?" Regent screeched, apoplectic with rage. "HOW?"

"Oh, dear." came a voice from the doorway smugly. Yale stood in the aperture, flanked by Devon and T'pleth.

"As for how," Devon smirked calmly. "It's easy when you know how to disengage power from the bridge, unlock doors to certain cabins, and power down brig forcefields." He leaned back against the turbolift door. "All in a day's work."

"A trick." Regent realised.

Gamelle looked aggrieved. "Am I the only one who wasn't in on this?"

"Sir!" Volkar's panicked voice reached them. As one, the crew turned to see the nebula once more begin to shimmer and twist, and once more the alien ship begin to proceed. Yale turned to Regent, who looked as worried and confused as everyone else...

* * *

Goodness! 


	6. Battle!

Yes, this story IS taking ages for me to write. So much for my eight stories a year plan...

* * *

Yale leapt into his chair as Volkar dragged Regent to the side of the bridge, where he placed her in the custody of one of his security officers. "Mr Devon, how long before you can raise shields?" He called to Devon, who was at the Engineering console. 

"I'm not able to give an exactation, Sir." Devon replied.

Dr T'pleth seated herself at the Science console. "Sir, the ship is at this moment configuring-" Her voice trembled with confusion. "-configuring its' sensors to adapt to four dimensional space-time."

"Incredible." breathed Ensign Gamelle.

Yale spun around to face Regent. He was angrier than any of the bridge crew had ever seen him before. "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!?" He yelled.

Regent smiled thinly. "You're about to find out." She said, looking directly at the viewscreen. "Hello, sister."

Yale swivelled to face the viewscreen, and leapt away from it with a shout of anger, as there on the viewscreen appeared a woman who looked very similar to Regent.

"Greetings, Mr Harry James Yale," she crooned softly.

"That's Captain Yale." He spat. "You're dealing with the Federation, whoever you are."

"My dear Captain Yale, 40 years of age, offered promotion to fleet captain last week, do you really believe that you are dealing with unintelligible cretins? I tell you now, you are meddling in levels of federation policy you can't even begin to understand!"

Yale thought about the uncooperative woman's words carefully. Suddenly, he realised what she meant. "Section 31?" He gasped. The woman giggled.

"How naive of you! But correct, in essence." She toyed with an ornamental knife. "Yes, I suppose you could call us Section 31. And now, I'm afraid you must leave this place and forget everything. Thank you."

"We're not leaving." Yale had spoken the words before he knew it. Regent gasped audibly, and T'pleth hurried over to the central seat.

"Captain." Hissed the Vulcan. "I don't believe you can do this."

"T'pleth!" Muttered Yale. "Are we certain that she belongs to Starfleet? Does she have a rank? Hmmm? No? Then I'm not prepared to take orders from her!"

"Captain, she is telling the truth." T'pleth told him.

"What?" Yale whispered, then; "Volkar, cut the communications." With a snarl of fury, the woman faded from the screen. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure." T'pleth answered sombrely. "She is telling the truth."

Jane Regent looked up as Harry Yale and Mike Devon entered the brig. "You anticipated me." She told them.

"We knew right from the start!" Devon growled. "We merely had to check the records to find out who had accessed the data necessary for the sabotage."

"Sure enough, there were your command codes." Yale finished. "For a Section 31 agent, you're none too bright."

"Section 31?!?" Spluttered Regent. "You really think we're as low down as them?"

"Fine, let's call you section 32 for now," fired off Yale.

"Goodness, how original." Deadpanned Devon. "The point is, what are you doing?"

"You really think I'm gonna tell you that?" snarled Regent. Suddenly, Yale's combadge beeped.

"Captain!" Yelled Gamelle's voice. "Two defiant class ships have just emerged from the portal!"

"Now what?" groaned Yale. "You can't expect us to believe starfleet defiant class ships will fire on us?" suddenly the Ultimate shuddered under multiple phaser bursts.

"Want a bet?" Regent asked sarcastically. But she was talking to empty air, as Devon and Yale's footsteps resounded from the far corridor.

The bridge shuddered under another volley as T'pleth rose from the command chair as her captain reached her. Lowering himself into his chair, he smiled grimly, his fingernails slicing into the fabric of his armrests. "Let's show these smartarses what hell the best of Starfleet technology can raise." He spun around to face Volkar. "Prepare for separation!"

In the dark cold of space, the magnificent saucer of the Ultimate slid across the blackness. Suddenly, with a flickering of emergency lights and an unheard groaning of gears, the upper two nacelles and engineering and the upper deflector arc split away from the top of the saucer, and exactly the same happened below, with the lower nacelles and deflector arc. The two stardrive sections swung away from the saucer, modifying their shields as they did so, coming about to face the two warships. The Defiant class ships were now outnumbered. On the bridge of the Ultimate, time seemed to stand still. Then-

"Damage report!" Shouted Devon on the battle bridge of the upper stardrive section, as sparks flew from a ravaged console. Lieutenant Giovanni gripped his science console.

"Our port nacelle is down!" He yelled.

"Never mind," sighed Ensign Mitchells. "I somehow doubt the captain was planning to go anywhere in a hurry."

"Fire a quantum torpedo barrage at the nearest warship." Ordered Devon. "Steady..." he muttered, as the ship gave another heave. A horrible scream rang out through the bridge, and Devon and Mitchells turned to see Giovanni half- stagger away from his console, the skin melting from his face as a cloud of superheated plasma rose from his console. "Evacuate! yelled Devon, leaping from his chair. Mitchells and the surviving bridge crew followed him, waiting in the turbolift for the air conditioning to do its work; helpless to do anything but hold on for dear life as the ship shuddered around them.

"Bloody air con." muttered Mitchells. "Five hundred years and they still can't get it right."

The saucer section was taking a battering also, but the pride of the fleet was taking it well; it fired off another volley, which impacted on one of its opponent's nacelles. The ship floundered as all power to one half was lost; the damaged nacelle exploded, leaving the ship floundering in space. The three sections of the Ultimate then moved in a pincer movement to surround the remaining ship. The warship began desperately firing torpedoes, sending the saucer section spinning away, smoke pouring from its underside. The two stardrive sections moved above and below the enemy ship, and fired phasers from above and below, ruthlessly hammering the opposing ship, until, inevitably, making one last desperate attempt to escape, both nacelles imploded, and the warship exploded into a million pieces. The three sections calmly rejoined.

"The intra-dimensional ship is hailing us again." Volkar reported.

Dabbing at a gash on his forehead, Yale turned to the younger officer. "On screen." He said wearily. The woman appeared again. Yale was pleased to see she was slightly flustered.

"So, you were more capable than anticipated. No matter."

"No matter? NO MATTER?!?" Yale seethed. "You've just forced me to kill about fifty Starfleet officers! My own people!" The woman waved a hand vaguely.

"I didn't force you to anything, Harry. You did it to yourself by refusing to depart."

"What about the other ship, sir?" Questioned Volkar. The woman on the screen smiled.

"Don't worry about them, Volkar. I deal with my own men." She activated an out of sight control. Yale realised what would happen a split second before the image on the screen changed to a view of the remaining warship exploding. Yale went through his remaining options in his head, and decided to do precisely what wasn't expected of him:

"Volkar, fire six torpedoes at the bridge of the enemy ship! Gamelle, take us in!"

Gamelle turned, wondering whether she had heard right. "In, sir?"

"Yes! Into the portal!" yelled Yale.

On the bridge of the USS Pacifier, Tawny Regent gasped in disbelief as her bridge shook around her. She turned to the red- skinned humanoid at the helm. "Follow them into the portal!" She shrieked. The Hovan raised weary eyes and saluted his slaver.

"Aye, ma'am."

The Ultimate shot into the unknown, beyond the final frontier...

* * *

Once again, I implore my loyal readers to review! And I don't care about continuity, or annoying things like that. 


	7. Capture!

After over a month and a half of writng silence, I'm back from the terror of exams and stuff to continue writing about the crew of the USS Ultimate...

* * *

As the Ultimate soared through the portal, T'pleth gripped her console, staring wildly around as the ship struggled to conform to physics that weren't just different to those of our universe, but had been completely rewritten at a far higher level.

Our universe has five dimensions, which allow the creatures inside it to live and survive on these five planes of existence; length, height, breadth, time, and spatial co-ordinates. Without any one of these, we would not be able to live. Near the planet of Bajor, there is a well- known wormhole. The people of Bajor are almost right to worship the creatures within as gods, for they come from a plane of existence we could not even begin to imagine. These creatures understand length, height, breadth, and, despite their position, spatial co-ordinates. However, these life forms have no sense of time, and can thus move freely between different movements of existence. We would not be able to exist in their dimension, and should not be able to exist in the sixth dimension, that to which the Hovans are indigenous, and which does not have a name, because I cannot describe it. We should be torn apart, having no wormhole to protect us, but T'pleth distinctly felt the Vulcan equivalent of anti- climax, as, as the matter of two dimensions touched across the boundaries of physics, all that occurred was colour blindness.

T'pleth turned to her grey captain, and watched as he said in relief; "We made it," then clutch at his throat in horror.

Yale sat, watching T'pleth stare about in consternation. To alleviate her fear, he said, reassuringly, and with relief, "We made it." However, he clutched his throat in horror as he watched a speech bubble, with the words "We made it," written inside, sail across the room, split into six and disappear down the ears of his bridge crew.

Gamelle gave a shriek of disgust as she realised she could see every bacteria on her console; Ensign MacLean was moving her mouth around, looking puzzled; Ensign Karn sniffed in alarm, his famous Tellarite sense of smell gone; Lieutenant Grevellt had collapsed onto the floor, throwing himself against walls and consoles. But Volkar breathed in, staring about him with a sense of wonder. To him, it was like taking off a pair of dirty, smudged sunglasses that had been forced onto his infant head as a baby. "Captain!" he said, beaming and striding towards Yale, passing through his console as he did so. He stopped, and frowned, looking at his console. That had never happened before. But, come to think of it, it was the most natural thing in the world. He couldn't understand why he had never tried it before. All that walking around things wasted so much time. He strode towards the turbolift doors.

"Mr Volkar, get back to your post." croaked Yale, but Volkar was on too much of a high to respond.

"Sir!" Gamelle turned to face her Captain- and winced. "The enemy ship followed us in! They're charging weapons! And sir- I can tell that just by looking at their ship on the scanners! I think I've got super-vision!"

"Talk slower, please." Groaned Yale. "Your bubbles are too big to get in my ears." He realised everyone was staring at him oddly. "What?" he said (or bubbled).

T'pleth leapt up and ran to Volkar, who passed through the turbolift doors. T'pleth hit the doors bounced back off them and fell onto Lieutenant Grevellt, who screamed and slid away.

* * *

In engineering, Devon groaned as the sharp tang of smoke hit his nasal passages, as well as three dozen other smells per second. And it is no treat to smell the bodily odours of two score sweaty engineers.

"Well, I suppose I can now give excellent classes in personal hygiene," He grumbled to Hannah Mitchells, who smiled back, but remained silent: her loss of voice was one of the best things about the crisis, in Devon's opinion. Suddenly, his communicator beeped. He tapped at it irritably. "Hello?" he asked.

"Mr. Devon, we've got a problem." Yale's tinny voice said.

"You're telling me."

"Not that problem. Volkar's gone on the loose. He's gone mad."

"Is that my problem?"

"It will be if he goes to engineering, Mike!"

Devon frowned. "He won't go to engineering."

On the bridge, Yale frowned. "How do you know?"

T'pleth answered him. "He is in his home dimension, sir. I believe he wishes to get free of the confines of the ship."

Gamelle called to Yale. "Sir! Volkar's heading for shuttlebay 3!"

"RIGHT!" Yale shouted, leaping up, but collapsed straightaway. T'pleth bounded over her console and examined him with her medical tricorder. "His synapses have collapsed, due to the mental strain of being in a different dimension." She reported to Devon.

In engineering, Devon gripped a console to stop himself collapsing. On the floor, Mitchells was already unconscious. Crewman McCailean staggered as he tried to readjust the atmospherical settings. Just before Devon blacked out, he saw several transporter beams form around him...

"Intruder Alert." remarked the computer complacently.

On the bridge, T'pleth turned to Gamelle. "Report!"

"Our shields have been taken offline by remote access by the other ship- the one with Regent's sister on board." Gamelle stuttered. "We have multiple beam-ins across the ship." Suddenly, three figures materialised on board the ship. With a thrill of horror, Gamelle realised that two of them were Hovans. One raised a device, and aimed it at T'pleth, who folded up and collapsed. The central figure moved to the command seat, sat down, and, almost as an afterthought, shot Gamelle. The ensign slumped across her console, before her body, along with those of the other bridge crew, disappeared.

* * *

"Well, I wasn't expecting you back in your subconscious this soon."

Yale sat up, rubbing his head and groaning. "What... who... oh... you." The hooded figure nodded.

"Do you usually get knocked out this often?"

"I'm a Starfleet captain! Of course I do!"

"I see..." said the creature."Right, well, I think I should warn you to watch out for Regent. She'll betray you."

"Yeah, got that bit," said Yale angrily. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Any time." Just then, Yale started to fade away. "Ooh, it looks like you're waking up." said the alien interestedly.

"Thank god." moaned the Captain in relief.

* * *

He sat up. "I just had the most interesting dream." He told T'pleth, who was examining him with a tricorder. "Is the whole crew here?"

'Here' appeared to be a dull, smelly cargo bay, packed with almost seven hundred exhausted Starfleet officers. Yale was relieved to see that his words weren't manifesting themselves inside surreal little bubbles any more. "There are twenty members of crew missing." reported T'pleth. "Eighteen people did not survive transfer due to losing their sense of touch. Lieutenant Grevellt was among the casualties." Yale recalled Grevellt's agony and torment on the bridge, unable to feel contact with the universe around him. He sighed, and closed his eyes. "Who are the other two? I'm assuming you're not counting Regent."

"The missing crewmembers are Volkar and Marianne Gamelle," said Devon, walking over to their corner and crouching down in it. He, like so many others, looked incredibly tired. Yale looked at him oddly.

"When did you last sleep, Mike?"

"I'm not as tired as I look, sir. It's the drug they gave us to combat the effect of the foreign dimension. You look the same, Harry."

"Indeed, the drug seems to stimulate stiff joints, and bloodshot and puffy eyes," noted T'pleth. "But this seems to be a small price to pay for having our senses returned."

"Who's 'they'?" asked Yale.

Devon lowered his voice. "Hovans, sir. Hovans, working for the Regent sisters."

* * *

Volkar sat in his ransacked runabout, gouging huge scratches into the floor. His hand slipped straight through the floor and into the cables beneath, sending a high electric pulse through his body. He yelled, not out of pain but of frustration, and swung his arm, destroying another console. Snarling, he clamped his hands over his eyes.

"Shields faaaaaiiiilliing..." reported the remains of the garbled computer. Volkar forced himself to stand, and staggered over to the viewscreen. He stared out at the red- tinged space outside. Explosions shook the ship as the dimensions fought each other on a battleground of physics. Just then, two figures stuttered into being on the transporter pad. Volkar spun around in panic.

"Computer!" he shouted. There was no response. "Computer?" The figures formed wholly. Volkar reeled back in shock as they were revealed- Hovans. One gave a bark of surprise, and rushed forward to support Volkar. He felt himself dematerialising, moaning as the heat of the exploding shuttle scorched him...

* * *

Marianne Gamelle was in a very uncomfortable position. Judging from the unusual, not to mention illegal piece of equipment she was strapped to, her predicament could be a lot worse. Two sinister figures stood by while the torturer, a burly Bolian, held a white hot strip of metal close to her exposed neck. Tawny Regent turned to her identical sibling. "You really think this one will be more compliant than the others?"

Jane smiled. "She is younger and more susceptible to... persuasion than the other senior staff."

"Good," said Tawny curtly. "Proceed with the interrogation."

"Excellent. Begin the interrogation procedure." Jane said to the Bolian, who, quick as a flash, put the strip of violently hot metal to Marianne's neck, then withdrew it again. The wounded ensign's screams echoed around the chamber. "Where is the individual known as Volkar?" demanded Regent.

"How should I know?" spat Marianne.

"You were monitoring his movements shortly before my colleagues rescued us. And you have displayed friendly affection towards him during the last few days." The word "friendly" was delivered as if it was a disease, and Regent couldn't spit it out of her mouth fast enough.

Gamelle stared at her incredulously. "Rescued? You abducted us, knocked us out and then drugged us up to our bloodshot eyeballs!"

"Nevertheless, you would have died had we not intervened."

"Just how much intervention has your people done over the years, Regent?" sneered Gamelle. "Enough to get you promoted to Lieutenant Commander without you displaying the slightest bit of talent, that's for sure!"

Regent reeled back for a second, but then seemed to recover. She turned to the Bolian. "I'll take over from here..."

* * *

Volkar sat up, scratching his scarlet head. He seemed to be in a kind of cabin with a rough approximation of a bed that was, despite the sparse bed clothing, the most comfortable he had ever slept in. He swung himself out of the sheets, noticing that his Starfleet uniform had been replaced with a simple blue robe. The door melted away, and a male Hovan rushed in. Volkar stood and stared at the first member of his species he had encountered in twenty years. Volkar gaped for several seconds, before finally, simply, saying: "I'm back."

The other Hovan reached over and put two fingers to Volkar's forehead, in a gesture of what Volkar surmised must be affection. "How long?" he asked.

Volkar realised what he meant. "Since I was an infant."

"Ah. So, your body adapted to the foreign dimension naturally?"

"I assume so."

"As you have seen, materials from the dimension of the Federation are destroyed within hours of arriving here. Human brain patterns degrade in an even faster time."

"Then- the others-" Volkar stammered.

"Others?" questioned the Hovan.

"My friends- my friends from the Ultimate."

The Hovan frowned. "You mean you actually have friends from the Federation?"

Volkar sat down. "I think you'd better bring me up to speed on the situation here."

"The Federation occupation began twenty six years ago, when their intelligence agencies found their way through the first portal..." began the Hovan.

* * *

Yale found himself dragged to his feet by two Hovans. They pushed him towards a doorway, which was instantly filled in to become just another part of the wall the moment they passed through it. A figure moved to meet them. "Hello again." said Yale darkly.

"Captain Yale." acknowledged Tawny Regent. "I sincerly hope you're grateful for your rescue."

"I supose I am," murmured Yale, his eyes dark, staring at Regent with a look of intense dislike.

"Glad to hear it. Your helmsman was... less grateful. We had to persuade her to thank us."

"Can we get this over with quickly?" Yale asked with tones of extreme politeness. "Your presence makes me want to vomit."

The smile vanished from Regent's face. "Take him to the bridge." She ordered. The Hovans dragged him along the corridor. "Do you like the USS Pacifier?" she asked, gesturing to the ship around them.

"Nice name."

Tawny smirked. "It is, isn't it? It took fifteen years for the best scientists of the Federation and the re-educated Hovans to build an intra dimensional ship that could survive in the fifth and sixth dimensions."

"Re-educated?" questioned Yale softly. He turned to one of his guards. "Are you re-educated? How do you feel about your re-education?"

The Hovan opened his mouth. "DON'T ANSWER HIM!" screeched Regent. She took a device from her belt and pointed it at the Hovan, who moaned in agony.

"Ah. I can't say an offer of free education would appeal to me." Yale spat.

They stepped into a turbolift, which carried them to a brightly lit bridge. Yale's head was forcibly dragged up by Regent to look at the viewscreen. The Pacifier was in some kind of giant spacedock. Over in another corner of the enormous superstructure was- the Ultimate.

Yale glared at Regent, who raised an eyebrow.

"What say you, captain? It's a simple deal- the ship for that disgusting Hovan who works for you." Yale narrowed his eyes. Then, he relaxed his muscles, causing the grip of his guards to loosen momentarily, then he twisted his arms and delivered a kick to the midriff of a Hovan. The red body folded and fell. The second Hovan reached for Yale's head and began to compress it. Yale yelled in pain and collapsed. From the floor, he looked up, panting, at Regent.

"Wrong answer." she smiled. "Destroy the ship!" she took her place in the familiar central seat of a commanding officer. Two torpedoes swum across the void and into the Ultimate, which began to shudder as explosions began to rip the ship apart...

* * *

How will the crew escape? How will Yale prevent the Ultimate from being destroyed? Will Volkar come to terms with his new-found heritage? Will Gamelle escape from a torture chamber? All these questions will probably be answered in the next chapter...

I also see that I've got a few more reviews since the last chapter went out. Thank you very much, those who found the time to comment.


	8. Escape!

**Note from the author: **Well, here we are again. I've actually managed to write a chapter in less than a week, something which I virtually applaud myself for. It's certainly cheered myself up after the depression of recieving my exam results. But, there we go. Having lovingly ripped all scientific logic to nonsensical pieces, I return to not only murder the general principles of tense situations, but to mutilate and bury them as well.

* * *

The empty decks of the USS Ultimate shook as quantum torpedoes rent the titanium bulkheads. An untended console in a sensor bay exploded. The lighting failed on several decks, and the artificial gravity shut down, then came back online. But there was nobody on board to experience this. The master of the fine ship, Harry Yale, was on board the bridge of the tyrannically ruled USS Pacifier, forced to watch his own ship be destroyed, at the orders of Tawny Regent, the head agent of an intelligence organisation known to Yale as "Section 32." The helm officer, Marianne Gamelle, was at that moment being tortured by Regent's sister, Jane. The majority of the rest of the seven- hundred strong crew were incarcerated in a cargo bay on board the same ship. Several were dead, and the one crewmember still at liberty, Security Chief Volkar, was a long way off, on board a Hovan ship, reunited with his own people at long last. 

So it was with surprise, rather than relief, that Yale felt the ship rock as a hole was suddenly blasted in the wall of the spacedock. Two small ships flew through the massive gap in the superstructure, and began firing missiles down on the Pacifier.

"Rebel Hovans." hissed Regent, spinning around in her seat. "Fire on them! Those pathetic ships aren't armed with more than missile shells packed with grenades!"

Another impact: Yale aimed his supposed roll- stagger towards the Hovan he had managed to incapacitate earlier. He grabbed hold of the weapon in the Hovan's belt. The red- skinned alien tried to stop him, but Yale blasted him; another Hovan aimed his weapon, but was blasted off his feet. Yale stood, panting, aiming the gun at Regent. Regent stared in horror, then laughed, a mocking, cruel laugh. "Those things can't harm humans." She stated. "It deters mutinous thoughts amongst my crew."

"Oh, flip," groaned Yale, before firing the weapon. It rebounded off Regent, straight over Yale's head, and into a console, which exploded. Yale ducked and ran into the lift. He jabbed at the door controls. The Hovan and Human troops fired several shots into the lift, but the doors shut, and the lift moved away. The ship shook again. "Destroy those fools!" she ordered. The Federation storm trooper at the extensive weapons console fired several shots at the attackers, destroying one, and sending the other fleeing. Regent narrowed her eyes. "They're getting too powerful. They must have destroyed several sensor relays to get this close. And the stardock has been damaged! Have several ships patrolling the damaged area at all times!"

"Aye, ma'am." A grizzled Hovan, with an eye patch and a deep scar across his forehead, sent out a message to the enslaved Hovan force working for Section 32. This force patrolled the sector surrounding the Hovan homeworld, hunting down and annihilating the dwindling groups of Hovans who resisted Federation rule. On board one of these ships, Volkar stood next to the Commander's chair at the front of the bridge.

"The surviving resistance scoutship reports that they managed to delay destruction of the Federation ship, and destroy a sizeable portion of the stardock they've constructed around the portal." Commander Yerrel said to Volkar, who nodded sombrely.

"I want to go there myself." Volkar told him. "I want to rescue my friends, and get them the hell out of here."

Yerrel stood, staring at Volkar long and hard. "Are you sure?" He asked, choosing his words carefully. "These are people whom you really know nothing about. We are your real people. We are your real friends. These- these _people_, they are not intelligence as we know it. They have a different _focus_, a different drive. They only seek to experiment with our kind, to find our weaknesses so that they can conquer all!"

Volkar stared at him with icy contempt, squaring his shoulders. "If you- all of you on this ship- are so incredibly short-sighted as to judge an entire universe on the actions of a few misguided kleptomaniacs, then you deserve to live like you are, running away constantly, hiding behind the nearest object all the time." He leant forward, his nose touching his fellow Hovan's. "This is worse than death. It's called futility. Can you feel it? The sense of purposely not doing anything to help yourself?" He straightened. "I'm going to my quarters." He left the small bridge without meeting anyone's gaze."

The navigation officer turned to his commander. "Your orders, sir?"

"My orders, Mr. Jihyut? Mr orders..." he addressed the whole bridge crew. "Let's show them the resistance is _not_ futile!"

Volkar lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He closed one set of eyelids and tried to sleep. Didn't they understand? What had the federation done to these people that friendly Starfleet officers were such an alien concept to them? He began to regret his outburst. _They're scared, because they've got used to being the underdogs_, he thought. Maybe he was wrong to use them for his own agenda. He could still feel that thought he'd put off for hours, creeping around like a pestilence, infesting his mind. _Should I_... No. He'd put it off, in the hope that something could decide for him.

The door disappeared, and Commander Yerrel entered. "We've turned around." He said. Volkar didn't move, but stared at the ceiling, tapping out a tattoo on his bed: da-dum, da-dum. Da-dum, da-dum. "You're quite the persuasive speaker. And you're right. We need to fight for our reality." Da-dum, _da-dum_. Da-dum, _da-dum_. Volkar's lower eyelids slid open, and he jumped up, smiling.

"Thank you, Yerrel. For everything." And then the ice was broken: they gave identical grins. "So, going to teach me how to be a good little Hovan in today's dimension?" asked Volkar. _The black thought could wait.

* * *

_Gamelle's last thoughts before she blacked out were of her Romulan father, teaching her how to withstand pain, the hard way. For the last three hours, she had resisted Jane Regent's best attempts to break her. Her hybrid blood trickled from a dozen wounds on her face and exposed chest. The Bolian torturer twisted her broken arm around to her back. Regent's gloating face swum in front of her. She didn't even have the strength to spit at her tormenter. Finally, she passed out.

There was a chime from the door. Regent knew it would be her sister. "Enter." She crowed, her spirits high. There was no response. Regent frowned, turning to the Bolian. "Go and see what's going on," she told him. The Bolian lumbered towards the door and activated the control. The door disappeared, to reveal Harry Yale.

"Yo!" Grinned Yale, diving through the doorway. The Bolian turned and delivered a punch to the side of Yale's head. The Captain collapsed, twisting as a furious Regent brought a white-hot sword down to where his head had just been. Yale leapt to his feet, headbutting the Bolian in the midriff. The Bolian choked, and Yale dived to one side as Regent swung the sword again. The metal scorched a strip of Yale's sleeve clean away, severely burning his shoulder. The sword continued its journey- straight into the Bolian's face. The blue giant screamed and toppled backwards. Yale tackled him around the knees, and the alien dropped to the side. There was a deafening screech, which petered out into a gurgling rattle. Yale leapt to his feet, grabbing hold of Regent's wrist, twisting it and forcing her to release the sword. She continued to stare, horror-struck, just beyond Yale's shoulder. He punched her full in the face, then turned to see the corpse of the Bolian, impaled on a spike, his blood pumping forth down the length of the hideous torture device that had claimed its user, mingling with the dried blood of previous victims. Wasting no more time on the ghastly spectacle, Yale set about releasing Gamelle. With infinite tenderness, he gathered the ensign in his arms and carried her towards the door. Regent crawled up from the floor so that she was on her knees, but pointing a gun at Yale.

"You're not going anywhere," she snarled.

"Oh, yes I am!" cried Yale.

"Oh, no you're not!"

"Oh, yes I am!"

"Oh, no you-" she narrowed her eyes. "You're sending me up, aren't you?"

Yale grinned. "Perish the thought!" He moved closer. "So, why are you and your foul sister trying to move in on this new dimension?"

Regent smiled. "Despite the fact that you're about to die, I'm still not going to tell you. Afraid you're going to die in ignorance, Ex-captain."

"Still the captain, I'm afraid," frowned Yale.

"That's where you're wrong!" Regent cackled. "I'm the captain of the Ultimate now!"

Yale arched an eyebrow. "Really? You do know your sister just tried to blow it up, don't you?"

The gun wavered. "Impossible."

"Perfectly possible," said Yale, and kicked her in the head.

* * *

Devon reached to his collar, fingering the two pips there. He looked at the other _Ultimate _personnel. "Any ideas?" 

Dr T'pleth sat to his immediate left in the circle formed by Devon's impromptu escape committee. "There appears to be no logical way out of this predicament." she confessed.

"You really think logic got us into this?" Lieutenant Jeffers asked incredulously. His voice rose to a hysterical squeak. "This whole flaming mission defies logic!"

"Calm down, Jeff," Ensign Barbarossa spoke softly, reassuringly. She crossed her legs, staring at Devon. "You're second officer, sir. We're looking to you."

"Yes..." sighed Devon."That's what worries me." He glanced up, and paused. Could it be that simple? Surely not. He surreptitiously lay back to get nearer to a Tellarite. "Karn," he whispered. "Do you think you could tear out that pipe up there?"

Karn stared. "You mean the one twice my height from the ground?"

Devon looked at Mitchells and Jeffers. "Stand against the wall." Nervously, they obeyed.

"He will not have the physical strength." noted T'pleth.

"He will if he's been covertly administering hyprosprays of steroids to himself on the sickbay night shift," Devon replied calmly. T'pleth turned to him slowly, a look of disbelief on her face.

Suddenly, one of the two present Hovan guards' communication unit burst into life in a haze of static. Sounds burst forth, sounding suspiciously like laser fire. One guard took a device from his belt and pressed it. The door disappeared. Karn leapt onto the two ensigns' shoulders with surprising agility, and tensed his muscles. With one twist, he tore the air pipe from the rusting wall. A blast of waste air hit him full in the face and he fell backwards abruptly, just as the remaining Hovan's weapon scorched the wall where he had stood. Karn dodged another weapons burst, and whacked the Hovan in the shins. The Hovan at the door seemed to be engaged in a firefight with someone in the corridor. The door control unit hung by a cord from his belt. Devon took a running a leap at him, and his hand hit the door control. The door reformed _around_ the Hovan, whose visible hand twitched, then fell still. Devon tentatively touched the door control dangling from the hip that protruded from solid metal. The door disappeared, and the Hovan fell inwards. Devon avoided looking at the corpse, but poked his head out into the corridor.

"Mike?"

"Harry?" Harry Yale clambered out of an alcove. Devon bent down to examine the Hovans Yale had just dispatched.

"They're only stunned," said Yale, chucking a laser to Devon. "Doctor!" he called to T'pleth. "Ensign Gamelle immediately needs your attention!" T'pleth and Devon followed him hurriedly, gesturing to the members of the crew clustered around the exit to remain in the hold. T'pleth immediately set to work pressing and manipulating Gamelle's nerves to block off the pain.

"We could overrun this ship," noted Devon. "I've only seen a few Hovans so far."

"There's whole barracks of thousands of Hovans all over the ship. I only made it because I was on my own, what with all the alarms going off all over the place."

"We never heard anything," commented Devon.

"Hmmm, must be on a separate comm circuit," mused Yale. He stood. "We must get together a plan of action, he decided.

Devon thought for a moment. "Our priorities ought to be taking down the shields and finding a shuttlebay or something with transport to get us out of here."

"Even if the _Ultimate_ has been destroyed, some of us may be able to get back through the portal to our home dimension," T'pleth reasoned.

"The _Ultimate_ hasn't been destroyed- yet." Yale quickly outlined what he had seen when he was on the bridge. Devon and T'pleth's facial expressions mirrored his own feelings.

Devon raised the weapon and glanced ahead- the corridor seemed deserted, he noted with relief. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he turned to the others. "Right. Captain, I think you and T'pleth should seek out a shuttlebay. I'll-" He was cut off as a laser burst blasted him off his feet. He hit the green-brown bulkhead and bounced off.

"RUN!" Yelled Yale, and he and T'pleth fled around the corner, almost colliding with Tawny Regent. She punched him in the stomach, sending him gasping for breath to the floor, and turned to her Hovan cohorts.

"Take the captain and his lackeys and put them back. Prepare to gas the chamber." Suddenly, her communicator spluttered into life. She held it to her ear and listened. Her eyes widened, her pulse quickening, and looked up. "The anarchist fleet has dropped out of warp just outside this system. Our forces are preparing to engage them." An Andorian wearing a black leather uniform jogged up. Regent gestured to him with one finger.

"Get the rest of our Federation ships to back up our fleet." She tugged down on her tunic. "All hands, prepare to engage the enemy."

* * *

Hmmm... that was rubbish, wasn't it? I think I'm ill. Oh well. One more chapter and an epilogue to go, and then you don't have to suffer this story any more. 


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